


Never to be

by RussianCaravan



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Mental Health Issues, One-Sided Attraction, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5038057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianCaravan/pseuds/RussianCaravan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has been working up the courage to confess his love to Steve. Steve is straight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never to be

“Tony, god I’m so sorry but, I don’t- I mean I don’t think of men that way.” Tony knew those words were coming, yet it still felt like a stab into his chest. He knew that the mighty Captain America was straight, but he still held out that tiny strand of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could be the exception to the rule. It was a fantasy of course, and the rational part of his brain knew that, but there was another part that longed for Steve so badly it didn’t matter. Knowing that this could never happen, knowing that he and Steve wouldn’t have anything other than friendship hurt so much that felt tears beginning to sting at his eyes involuntarily.

“Tony? Please don’t cry, I promise we’ll stay great friends, nothing has to change.” Steve soothed as he put his hand on Tony shoulder. Tony couldn’t look him in the eye, and as he felt Steve’s hand on him, he flinched back, and ran. He could hear Steve calling after him, but he just needed space, room to breathe. He could feel his heart beating like a racehorse and his lung struggling to hold oxygen. Tony feel into an empty room and collapsed onto the floor. He couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t enough air. As his vision blurred and his hands began to tingle he knew it was another panic attack. But the logical part of him was unresponsive, all he could think of was how much he wanted Steve. Steve to hold him tight and caress him, to tell him everything will be alright, to kiss him on the forehead, and to hold him as they slept. Every fantasy and daydream of beautiful domestic bliss that Tony had filled his head with for months and months came crashing down around him, and those fantasies that had once filled him with uncontrollable joy now sent his mood into a spiral of pain, despair, and most of all sheer panic.

Tony had no idea how long he spent struggling to breathe as hot tears poured down his reddened cheeks. It felt like an eternity, and by the time he finally left, the once midday sun had turned to a pink and orange sunset. He noted that the sunset was particularly beautiful that day, but he couldn’t appreciate it. Nor could he appreciate the very expensive scotch he was holding as he gazed into the New York skyline from his penthouse balcony. The panic had long gone. All he was left with now was miserable melancholy. Only a deep, penetrating emptiness filled his ravaged heart. For hours, everything had seemed so surreal to Tony, as if he was looking down on the scene of himself from above rather than experiencing it himself. A strange sense of nothingness. But little by little, his brain had sunk back into his body, and he was left with despair and anger at his own stupidity. Falling for a teammate for one thing, a straight man for another, and, most importantly, his best friend. Would Steve even be able to look at him again? Tony knew for sure he wouldn’t be able to gaze on Steve again without him asking questions. All he wanted was to have his strong arms surround him and ensure his safety, without a word spoken.

Tony often fantasized about buying Steve lavish gifts to spoil him; to see the look of both joy and embarrassment on Steve’s face, to see his insistence that Tony should take it back, and to see Steve’s happiness whenever he had the chance to use his lovely gifts. He imagined Steve holding him up rather than him using the suit to paint the inside of a house they built together. He imagined waking up to the scent to bacon, eggs, and coffee wafting through the air to see Steve wearing nothing but an apron. These and countless other domestic daydreams kept him sane through the dark and painful hours of the long, lonely nights, but not anymore. Now those fantasies caused a physical ache in his body and a mental stab in his head. ‘God I’m useless’ was Tony’s only thought. He repeated it over and over, having no will to end his negative thinking. He looked at the ledge and felt an urge to jump and release his pain. Tony looked over the edge as his hands held firmly onto the cold metal railing, and he gazed down the hundreds of meters to what could be his death. After a deep breath, Tony unhands the rails and runs inside, locking the balcony door. That was far too close for comfort.

“Sir, I advise you listen you to sit down and drink herbal tea. Please do not cause harm to yourself.” The calming voice of JARVIS sad, filling the air. At that moment, Tony realises a sad fact of his life; the only person who will truly miss him will be JARVIS- an A.I he created. The other Avengers care about Iron Man, not him, besides, Rhodney could easily take over his feeble position. Pepper would find her life significantly easier without the burden of himself fucking up all her plans, and Steve, well Steve could live without his weird and pathetic friend drooling over him like a pervert.

“What’s the point? I may as well be done with it, dammit!” he shouted, smashing the glass down to the floor where it smashes into shards. Sadly, none wedge themselves in his arteries and give him the release of bleeding to death.

“Sir, I don’t believe you’re in a suitable mindset to make decisions. I have your psychologist on the line, Dr. Winters, please speak to her.” Tony was too exhausted to argue, and after half an hour of tears and heavy breathes on the phone, he calmed down, after which he immediately climbed into bed, having no energy nor motive to eat or shower, and hugs a pillow close to his chest as he imagines strong warm arms around him. Strong, warm arms that will never be.


End file.
